


read between the lines

by pbandwhey



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 02:29:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pbandwhey/pseuds/pbandwhey
Summary: The infuriating thing about soulmarks is that they don’t all come in at the same time.





	read between the lines

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't even funny. i'm physically incapable of writing anything serious.   
> anyways, enjoy the ensuing mental image you'll have after reading this.

The infuriating thing about soulmarks is that they don’t all come in at the same time.

Some people get them too early to remember a time where they didn’t. Some don’t get them until well into middle age or later. Most people, however, get them roughly around the time where they reach adulthood – typically around twenty years old.

Geno got his when he was fifteen, on his left hip, and it’s quite possibly the most ambiguous mark he could’ve gotten, considering his life. It’s quite clearly a puck. The only distinguishing about it, really, is that it’s split in half. Geno doesn’t quite get what that could possibly be about, but either way, it leads him to over-analyze his interactions with his teammates.

There were a few times, when he was much younger, that he thought he’d found The One. But then he started looking, really looking at the NHL, started dreaming of playing in North America more than he used to dream of finding his soulmate. And when he boarded the plane to the States, heart pounding in his chest with fear and anticipation, the thought didn’t cross his mind at all.

And when he finally arrived in Pittsburgh, tired but excited, and was taken to Mario Lemieux’s house, he still wasn’t thinking about it.

So it really was a blessing that he could pass off the dumbstruck look he must’ve had on his face when he saw Sidney as exhaustion, as surprise, as anxiety. There were pop songs about knowing who your soulmate was when you first saw them smile, endless movies about lovers’ hearts getting jumpstarted like dead car batteries the first time they touch. But none of that could’ve prepared Geno for this.

Of course, Sidney didn’t have his mark yet. But they were both still young, so Geno thought he would only have to wait a couple years for him.

Geno was wrong.

Sidney doesn’t get his mark for years, not even when they win the cup, not even when he splits the puck for their double milestones and Geno realizes his own mark’s complete meaning, not even when Sid’s twenty-four and Geno’s twenty-five and Geno finally decides that enough is enough, goes over to Sid’s house one night after an amazing game where the powerplay felt like it was in perfect harmony and takes Sid’s surprised face in his hands and kisses him like he’s wanted to do ever since that night in Mario’s foyer.

And, miracle of miracles, Sid responds better than Geno could have ever hoped. He grabs at Geno’s shoulders, his sides, his hair, desperate and frantic. But then he tortures Geno by pulling away, keeping his distance with his hands braced against Geno’s chest, arms extended to maintain the distance between them.

“Sid?”

Sid takes a shuddering breath. “Geno, I – fuck,” he says, chest heaving. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Geno’s heart sinks. “You don’t want?”

“No,” Sid says, and he must see the devastated look on Geno’s face because he scrambles to continue. “I mean, yeah, I do, of course I do, but that doesn’t mean we _should_.”

“Because teammates?”

Sid’s eyes are already drifting back down to Geno’s lips, but he doesn’t move in close again. “Well, yeah, but also – the soulmate thing, Geno. What happens when you find yours?”

Geno just blinks. Sometimes, he forgets how dense Sid is. He pulls up the side of his shirt and the hem of his pants, ignoring how Sid flushes a little darker, and turns so that there’s no way Sid can’t see his mark. “You never notice this, Sid?”

“Of course I’ve seen it. Just because it’s a hockey puck doesn’t mean that we’re, like, meant to be. I’m not the only person in the world who plays hockey.”

Geno huffs. “You mean hockey more than anyone I’m ever meet. And is cut in half, Sid. Who else I’m have half a puck with?”

“Half a puck? What’s that have to do with – oh. _Oh._ ” Sid reaches forward, traces his fingers over the skin where the puck is split. “Oh.”

Geno catches Sid’s hand with both of his, letting his shirt drop back over the mark. “Sure about you, Sid.” He raises Sid’s hands to his own lips, and he knows kissing them is sappy beyond belief but Sid’s face softens anyways, loses some of that panicky look. “Been sure since I first get to Pittsburgh.”

Sid laughs, a little shaky. “That long?”

Geno nods. He tugs Sid’s hand, and Sid dutifully steps forward, letting Geno circle his arms around him and press a kiss to his forehead. “I know you don’t have mark, but I’m want this. Want you. Can’t think of anyone else.”

He can feel Sid melt in his arms. “Yeah,” Sid finally says. “Me too.”

Geno can’t help the smile that comes across his face. “Even without mark?”

Sid just hums before he lifts his head up to look Geno in the eye. “Maybe there’s another way I can get a mark from you.”

“What you mean?”

Sid shrugs, probably aiming for nonchalant and missing because of the grin on his face. “I like it rough.”

It takes Geno a few seconds to parse that meaning, but when he does –

Really, he wishes there was some written record for how fast someone’s gotten from their front door to their bedroom, because Geno’s about ninety-nine percent sure that he and Sid just broke it.

Somehow, even with Sid’s lips wrapped around his cock, he manages not to come, finally pulling Sid off by his curls before reaching into his nightstand and grabbing the lube. Sid gets it immediately, repositioning himself so that Geno can reach over to start massaging in between his cheeks. He starts pushing his index finger in, but the position combined with the absolutely ridiculous size of Sid’s ass makes it hard to get very deep.

Geno slaps his ass, only just managing not to come when he hears Sid gasp. “Turn, need to reach.”

Sid turns so that he’s on his hands and knees with his ass up in front of Geno, and Geno sits back on his heels and gets more lube on his fingers before he moves to spread Sid’s ass. And then he does, and immediately has to stop, because –

Sid whines. “Why are you stopping? C’mon, G.” He starts rocking back impatiently.

Geno needs a few seconds before he can try to make any kind of noise. “Uh.”

“What?” Sid stills. “Do you not want to? Because we can stop, G, shit, I don’t want to push you.”

“Not that,” Geno finally manages. “It just – uh.”

“It’s just what?”

“You have mark.”

“ _What?”_ Sid nearly shrieks, scrambling around with his hands like he’ll be able to feel it if he reaches back far enough. “Where?”

Geno can only stare at where there’s a little bit of text, just now visible on the inside of Sid’s asscheeks. _No wonder no one’s seen it,_ he thinks, a little hysterically. “In ass,” he finally manages. He knows that isn’t the exact right way to put it, but Sid seems to get it, and buries his face into the mattress.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “Of course it is.” He picks his head up, twisting to peer back at Geno. “What – what is it?”

Geno has to spread Sid’s ass even more to read it.

“Three years Superleague.”

“You’re fucking kidding.”

Geno stares, then starts laughing, then can’t stop. He doesn’t want to take his hands of Sid’s ass, but he has to because he’s rocking backwards, falling into the pillows. He feels Sid moving on top of him, and Geno eventually takes his hands off of his face to see Sid leaning over him, glaring.

“This is your fault.”

Geno snorts. “How is my fault?” He reaches around to grab Sid’s ass. “I’m not one with ass too big to see mark.”

“God,” Sid groans, falling forward so that his face is planted in Geno’s neck. “ _Why?_ Why did it have to be there? Why can’t it be somewhere _normal?_ ”

Geno hums, running one hand along Sid’s spine, grinning when he feels Sid shiver a little against him. “Not all bad. No one’s see, can’t make fun of.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone?”

Geno doesn’t respond. Sid sighs. “I fucking hate you.”

Geno beams, pulling Sid in even tighter. “Love you.”

Sid doesn’t say anything for a long while, but finally he whispers, “Love you too.”

“Is nice mark, too, give me good reminder when I’m fuck you.“

“I’ll kill you. I’ll seriously kill you, I don’t care what it does to our playoff chances.“

“Have to put in lots effort, though. So much ass.”

“ _Geno.”_

“Is okay, Sid.” Geno turns his head to kiss Sid’s temple. “I’m like.”

“Shut up.”

“Can’t, baby. Like lots.” He starts moving his fingers along Sid’s back again. “But can make it up to you, if want.”

Sid huffs. “Yeah, okay,” he says. He starts getting back up. “But if you say anything about – it, again, I’m leaving.”

Geno just grins. He’s alright with that for tonight – after all, they’ll have the rest of their lives together for Geno to keep saying things about it.

He’s looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry


End file.
